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Half a Soul

A Non-Western Fantasy

By Liv SavellPublished 2 years ago 13 min read
1
Half a Soul
Photo by Tobias Keller on Unsplash

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Their coming changed everything.

No longer did the Chakha send out parties to hunt hares or graze cattle. They did not separate into nomadic groups to wander the steppe beneath the Uul peaks or take their rites in the icy waters of the lakes that lay beneath them, reflecting rock faces back into the sky. Neither the sun nor the moon guided them because the Chakha did not move beneath their light.

Ari was going to change all of that.

She urged her mount up to the next ledge, a jump he made without clattering the bone charms hanging from his antlers. Around them, the sky was deepening into the rich reds and purples of evening, the steppe below set afire by the glow. Warmth still radiated up from the gray rocks of the Saran mountain, twin sister to Samga. The Valley lay between them, the dragons ahead. Home was far behind.

Between her and the warm, felt ger where her family lived stood an army in shining silver, their black ichor pennants invisible, though she could see the amorphous shape of them in the distance, a mass of humans and animals come to slay the dragons.

Ari turned, tucking her braid into the tall collar of her blue woven robe with its pattern of heavy-headed deer leaping through flowers. It did not smell like her mother any longer, though it had held those scents of stew and smoke for days after her departure. She clucked her deer, Od, forward again. This was no time to be thinking of what lay behind. Not when there were dragons ahead.

It would be days before she would make it into the dragon lands proper, but this close to the border, Ari didn’t dare a fire. If she hoped to sleep at all tonight, she would need to find a good campsite with something to block the wind and access to fresh water.

That piece of the problem was easily solved, as there were fresh springs between the many craggy hills, but shelter… Ari sighed and urged Od forward, scanning the depressions in the land around her. If she could—

The clattering of rocks yanked Ari from her reverie, and she scanned the hills nearby. Had a mountain goat come her way? None of their familiar cloud-colored forms came into view. A prickling at the back of her neck had Ari twitching, looking over her shoulder every minute or so, though no one and nothing came into view.

Surely, the Volk Army wouldn’t have sent patrols this far up the steppes? Maybe a scout, but she hadn’t seen signs of human life in days. Ari swallowed and clucked her tongue, encouraging Od into a trot. She needed distance more than anything.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and nothing jumped out at her. Ari slowed Od back to a walk and shook her head. She’d spooked herself for no reason. Well, no real reason. Certainly, running into the enemy’s army would be disastrous, as would coming across a dragon, but she didn’t need to be so jumpy.

Od ambled down the steep slope, his hooves splashing through one of the many springs. Ari swung her leg over his back, collecting his reins and walking alongside the reindeer. She’d found a spring, so if she could locate some shelter, she would be able to finally rest. The long ride with the wind nipping at her cheeks and hair all day had tired her more than helping her parents back home ever could.

Ari came around the bend of the stream and had to smile. Right there, as if placed on purpose by the spirits of the steppe, was a large enclave of boulders bordered by the stream. She could lay her pallet down beside the rocks, protected from the fierce winds, and with Od on her other side, she’d be quite warm.

Quickly Ari led Od to their home for the night, pulling the thick woven blankets from his back and rubbing his sides with a brush. He turned to wipe his snotty nose on her shoulder, but Ari didn’t mind. Instead, she smoothed the white star on his forehead, bending to kiss it for luck before tying him to one of the nearby shrubs.

Pulling out her supper of dried marmot and aaruul, Ari sat on her folded pallet and watched the last rays of sunlight disappear over the edges of the mountains. On the steppe, her uncle would be cooking just then—something warm and full of flavor, while she and her brother wrestled or tried to outdo each other’s stories. This was the longest she had ever been from home. The farthest too. What did they do without her? Would they carry on as they always had? Or weep for her loss? So many of them had been lost since the Volk came.

Her mother and father were probably worried sick, but it wasn’t as if they had given Ari any choice. When she first told her parents of her dreams, they had told her they were just that. Dreams. But Ari knew better. The shamanka could predict the future with herbs and bones cast, but old Ghoa had given Ari a knowing look when she explained her dreams of dragons and fire and war. The threat was real, and Ari had to do something.

She sighed, swallowing her last bite of supper and chasing it with sea-buckthorn juice. Od huffed in her direction, and Ari nodded in agreement. It was time for sleep. She untied him, leading him closer to the rocks, and whispering for him to lay down. After a few careful sniffs of her pallet, Od gave her a sidelong glance with his long-lashed eyes and then bent his knees. With a great grunt, he folded neatly upon himself and lipped up the handful of grain she put before him. By now, he was used to their odd sleeping routine, though he still gave Ari looks as if she were crazy for wanting to snuggle with a deer.

The girl had to agree, though she’d never tell Od that. Still, waking up with deer breath in her face was better than not sleeping because she was too cold. Besides, it wasn’t as if anyone else was there to see her spooning her mount.

Ari untucked her braid and thought about brushing it out but thought better of it. It was too much effort to manage the thick, dark mass when the braid would keep it neat enough while they traveled.

Closing her eyes, she pulled woven blankets over herself and fell asleep at once.

Her dreams were the same as always.

People in silver armor came to slay dragons and cart their glittering carcasses back to far-off lands. The dragons retaliated, gathering in numbers to plummet out of the sky, spewing flames from gaping mouths, their sinewy snake bodies like ribbons of blood in the air. The steppe burned, felt smoldering in acrid, choking fumes.

When she woke, it was to the smell of smoke and the sight of a figure kneeling across the way.

Ari jolted upright, startling Od, who jumped to his feet and trotted off. She reached for the bow tucked carefully inside her quiver as the figure swiveled on their knees. In the soft light of pre-dawn, Ari could only tell the person was tall, straight-backed, and black-haired. She struggled against her blankets, trying to get free, trying to think. Who had snuck up on her? Who had been so quiet even Od didn’t react? And then why would they have made a campfire?!

“Ari.” The voice was calm, and the fact that they knew her name made the girl pause.

She squinted at the figure and then let out a low curse. “Dolgoon?”

They nodded and stood up, offering Ari a hand. She took it, though she didn’t really want to. Dolgoon hauled her to her feet easily, long fingers brushing back lanks of their black hair from their face after they let her go. “I’ll go get Od,” they murmured, their voice raspy. Probably from lack of use.

As Dolgoon slipped through the brush, their footfalls made no noise. It was eerie how they could do that, and no wonder they had snuck up on Ari. She bit the inside of her cheek in irritation and turned to the campfire. Dolgoon had apparently been preparing breakfast, probably relying on the misty dawn to mask signs of the fire. It was more marmot but stewed this time, and there was mare’s milk to drink. She dipped her middle finger into a bowl of it, flicking three times to her left, three times to her right, and once to the heavens. That ought to appease the spirits, but it wouldn’t undo the bad luck of having Dolgoon find her.

Ari sighed, commanding herself not to lose her temper. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going, just slipping off into the night. Since Ari had been traveling for a month, she had figured no one would catch up to her, but she had been wrong. Cause there was Dolgoon.

She didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else, especially Dolgoon. It wasn’t that they weren’t useful. Certainly not. They had proven they were an adept tracker, and back home in their village, Dolgoon was considered one of the better warriors, but that wasn’t the problem.

No, the problem was that Ari didn’t know how to feel or what to think when she was around Dolgoon. At least not since the shamanka had proclaimed that Dolgoon and Ari’s fates were woven together.

When Ari had been born, it was with the crescent moon mark at the back of her neck, denoting her as a half soul. This meant, somewhere out there, someone else also only had half of the same soul. Her soul. Or rather, their soul. Split between two bodies.

Dolgoon hadn’t been born into the village but rather stumbled in one day when Ari was perhaps five winters old. They wouldn’t speak of what had happened, asides from the fact that their village and family were gone. Dragons, some said.

Her parents had been relieved when it was found out that Dolgoon also was a half soul, and since then, everyone said Ari and Dolgoon belonged together. Whether or not they wanted to.

And now, here they were, showing up out of the blue, on this insane quest she’d set herself upon because she dreamt it. Dolgoon, whose entire family and village had burned when the dragons came, followed Ari into the dragon lands. Maybe they’d come to bring her home?

Well, she couldn’t allow that. She had to reach the dragons.

When Dolgoon returned, Ari didn’t give them time to explain themselves. “You shouldn’t have come, but now that you have, you will not stop me.”

Dolgoon gave Ari a steady look and then turned away, tying Od to the bush she’d used last night as a hitching post. They patted Od’s side comfortingly and then returned to their cooking pot. Irritation made Ari’s mouth twist. Were they just going to ignore her then?!

Fine. She’d gotten this far without them. If they wouldn’t talk with her, she’d just go. There was no way to tell when the future she saw would come, and she did not mean to waste time. Ari folded her pallet and tied it to Od’s back before tightening her belt around her waist and ensuring that her bow lay right in its pouch at her hip. The mountains were not as dangerous as the plains immediately surrounding the Volk Army, but it certainly would not do to go unprepared. She turned to look at Dolgoon. “Goodbye, then. If you return home, please tell my family that I’m alright.”

Dolgoon looked up from their stirring and arched one brow. Ari resisted the urge to do the same. “So, you’re not going to eat breakfast then?”

Despite herself, an exasperated sigh escaped her. Were they not even listening?! “I—” her stomach rumbled. The only things left in her bags were dried marmot and cheese curds. It would be a long time before she got a chance to eat hot food again. There would certainly be no more fires as she and Od descended into the Valley. “Alright. One bowl. But then, I’m headed down into the Valley. We can’t let this war come. We won’t survive it.”

Blue-black eyes met hers, and Ari willed herself not to blink. Dolgoon was a few years her senior, and their heavy stare made plenty of people in the village nervous. That, alongside the fact that they were strong, tall, and semi-wild, made Dolgoon an intimidating person. A small smile tugged at their lips when Ari didn’t look away, and finally, they gestured for her to sit.

She let out a little breath and nodded in thanks as they handed her a bowl full of stew. It was heavily spiced, and she wondered where Dolgoon had found the herbs. They ate in silence for ten minutes before Dolgoon broke the peace. “Did the shamanka tell you what happens to half souls if they never join?”

She hadn’t, and Ari was suddenly struck by the idea that she didn’t want to know. That pressure of growing up around someone that everyone knew you would be with one day was bad enough. Why did there have to be some greater threat hanging above her head as well? She stood abruptly.

“Thank you for breakfast, Dolgoon. Have a safe trip home.” She left her bowl respectfully next to the cookpot and went to check over Od’s bridle.

She busied herself straightening all the straps and double-checking the buckles, but Ari couldn’t help it. She looked back once, and Dolgoon was staring right at her. She bristled and looped Od’s reins over his neck, placing one hand on his withers as she prepared to mount up.

“Ari—” Dolgoon’s voice finally sounded, but their tone surprised her. It was sharp, warning.

Ari leaned forward, ready to haul herself up when Od let out a shrill scream and bucked. Ari fell back, the air flying out of her as she landed on her side, and her mount took off through the brush. If no one knew where they were before, they certainly would now. She struggled to catch her breath, thinking all the curses she knew, when Dolgoon’s long-fingered hands slipped under her elbows, easing her upright.

She was even more surprised when they shoved Ari behind them, and she looked up in time to see a great, lion-like head slipping around the cluster of boulders she had been sleeping beside. Its lips pulled back from its teeth, longer than arrows, and great ropes of saliva dripped down its chin.

A dragon, come to face the trespassers.

Clawed hands came to grip either side of the behemoth rocks, and it leaned over them. Despite her awe, fear trickled down Ari’s back. She’d never been this close to a dragon before. She never thought she would have to be until the dreams.

“Humans,” the dragon growled, and Dolgoon’s shoulders tensed. Their bow was out of reach, but their large hunting knife lay in its sheath at their hip.

Ari lunged forward, gripping Dolgoon’s arm to keep them from unsheathing the knife. They struggled, but desperation lent her strength, the flames of her dreams overlaying reality like a dragon’s nictitating eyelid. She stared up at the creature, taking in its mane, its blunt nose, and the long, writhing sinew of its body. Her mouth was dry, but she must be the voice of her people.

“Dragon, we’ve come to talk of peace.”

Fantasy
1

About the Creator

Liv Savell

Liv is a 4x self-published author, musician, and hiking enthusiast She can often be found with her animals or curled up with a good book. Learn more about her books and other works at lsfables.com.

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